Nameless Wood and Sheep Wood (again)

On the map it looks as if it's possible to walk from the top end of Pen Park Road in Southmead the four miles to Penpole Point on the Kingsweston Estate, overlooking Avonmouth, through woods, with only a few A and B roads to cross, and one day I'll do it, but this walk was mainly about seeing how navigable the stretch of woodland that runs between Charlton Road and Knole Lane is.

Son the Younger, Cwtch and I parked off Pen Park Road and crossed the green space adjoining it, which looks to have an old hedgerow across it that I'd like to inspect once it starts leafing in spring. We then cut down between houses, where there was a good view over to Cribbs Causeway and Spaniorum Hill ...

... and followed the concrete path until it turned into the wood, which doesn't appear to have a name, and which I'll therefore call Nameless Wood for the purpose of this account.

This, apparently, is where Mr Sanders lives

First celandine on the first of February

At the far end of the wood we emerged onto Brentry Hill, where I'd never been before. The Georgian pile above was designed by Humphry Repton and completed in 1802. By the end of the century it was a reformatory for inebriates, then an asylum for the mentally ill, before becoming part of Brentry Hospital. It's now divided into posh apartments for the rich. 

There was a view of the Severn to the west, though it wasn't clear enough to be visible in photos (though directly above the roof of the mock Tudor property, you might be able to make out the new Severn Bridge). 

We might have turned back at this point, but I was still full of my visit, the previous week, to Sheep Wood, so we continued our walk. 

On the opposite side of Passage Road, a stone dated 1908 marking the then city boundary

We then entered Sheep Wood and made our way to the original facade of the Lord Mayor's Chapel. 

It was still hugely impressive, and just as incongruous, the second time around.

jelly ear fungus

There were more snowdrops on display than the previous week ... 

... and rhododendrons. (I have to admit, although I hate rhododendrons in native woodland, the siting of the Chapel wall is so implausible, the nasty, ground-gobbling, native plant-swamping plant with flowers like crumpled red serviettes and creepy leathery leaves doesn't seem as misplaced as it might.)

On the way back I began to rue my enthusiastic continuing of our walk, as I was wearing wellies and they began to blister the balls of my feet. Any distance, and walking shoes or boots are essential. 

The fallen tree has rotted away, the ivy is still flourishing and bearing berries

Can spring be far behind?